Thursday, September 9, 2010

My world.

My world, in all its chaos and tumult,
I'm astounded, as each hit is swiftly taken and replaced by one, equally as cold, equally as arduous.
And you look me in the eye and surrender, any trace of integrity, purity, those lips somehow still hold.
While i ponder how faceless a face may be.
All i see is a facade and all i hear, fabrication.
It may be an act to one such as you but to me,
but to me,
my stomach, it's turning like the tide while you're changing with the wind.
My heart, my lungs, the blood in my veins, I'm stricken to an immovable state,
Just taking the punches you throw at me.
Your reason, your reasoning, there is no sentiment.
Your fear of disapproval?
Your cowardice?
But it may only be a notion and i may only presume.
What does the end offer me, what does a blind man dream?
and why are we all searching for answers we've so long known?
I can lie here in this idealistic, pensive state and long.
But this is it.
It's real, its here, its right now and this world,
This world is all my own
and you are no longer a part of it.

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